New to the Business
by Jemina
Summary: A New Orleans street thief finds herself clashing with and forced into the guild.
1. The Dream

Yalana smiled as the small flame bloomed at the end of her finger. She touched the heat to the lock and watched it melt. _Cake,_ she thought bringing up her heat shield. The heat was never enough to burn, but high enough to keep her from leaving traces of herself.

It had been awhile since she had hit an actually shop, but tonight she wanted the challenge. The man that closed the store that night had forgotten to turn off the cooler and steam rose from Yalana's skin as the cool air met the blanket of fire. She put out the torch-like flame on her fingertip as she examined the display cases looking for the ring she had seen that afternoon. When she found it, she laughed, they had been foolish enough to not put it in the safe.

Once again, the small super-heated flame appeared. _Speed it up Fire Sprite,_ she thought as she 'cut' out a hole just large enough to get her hand through, _else you'll sleep for a week when you're done._ She draped her 'blanket' on one finger and hooked the ring, after she swept her arm over the spot to erase any proof and stepped back. She glanced one last time at the hole, wishing she could figure out how to re-melt the glass so there was truly no trace, besides the lock, of how she had done it. She sagged once outside as she let the flame recede back into her. She strolled calmly down the street— three blocks down she let herself collapse against the wall of an apartment complex. She sat there with her eyes closed, waiting for the fatigue that came with using the fire like that, to subside. Finally, she pulled the ring out of her pocket and smiled. The heat of the flames around it hadn't harmed the ring, but had made it look slightly aged, just enough so that when she took it to the jewelry shop across town, they would think she'd had it for some time.

"No' ba'," a voice said from above her. She looked up in time to see someone flip off the second story fire escape and land on their feet in front of her. Yalana glared at the boy who smiled so openly and flirtatiously at her. Her hard blue eyes went over him slowly, sizing him up. She had to admit he wasn't hard on the eyes. He looked to be about her age and his auburn hair was more red than brown, his red on black eyes sparkled with some mischief and his flirty white smile invited her to share it. His skintight black suit was similar to her own, but was long sleeved where hers was a halter-top. He also wore an odd sort of pink armor. Both helped to display his well-muscled arms and well-shaped body.

"Yo' li'e wha' yo' see? He asked his smile widening.

Yalana smiled harshly. "Alls I see 's a wanna be stree' ki' da' t'inks 'e's betta den 'e i' jus' b'cause 'e's go' a few looks t' 'im."

The boy put his hand over his heart. "Da' hi' Remy righ' 'ere, chére. An' all 'e di' wa' try an' complimen' yo'."

"If I'd hi' yo' dere, yo'd be dea'." A shiver went down her spine as he stepped closer. Why was she reacting like this to him?

He smiled again. "Yo' act tough an' col', mais we bot' know yo' li'e Remy."

"I don't even know you!" she objected, slipping out of the Cajun accent she'd worked to master so she fit in with locals in New Orleans.

"Yo' don' 'ave t' know someone to' li'e dem," he told her now standing less than a foot away.

Yalana shrugged. "So?" She didn't bother to pick the accent up again. "That doesn't mean I like you."

"Mais yo' do."

"Says wh…" Yalana's objection was cut off when, without warning, he leaned in and pressed his lips to hers. She stiffened as his arms went around her waist, he mind flashing back to the drunken man in her mother's brothel, but this boys, Remy's, lips were soft and inviting, not crushing and demanding. He moved his lips gently over hers and she relaxed, until his tongue touched her bottom lip. She jerked back and he chuckled.

"Yo' reaction tol' Remy all 'e nee's t' know."

"You disgustingly cocky little bastard!" she ground out between clenched teeth, furious at herself for reacting to hi kiss. She'd scorched men for less, so why did she let him do that!

"Remy migh' be jus' da'…mais yo' still li'e 'im."

"I do n…" He kissed her again before jumping to grab the escape later and disappearing out of sight.

Yalana sat up in bed, her breathing and heartbeat as erratic as they had been that night, two years ago, when she'd met Remy after her jewelry store heist. It had taken her nearly ten minutes to figure out he'd stolen the ring from her during one of those mind shaking kisses. In it's place she'd found a note telling her that if she found him, she might get it back. She hadn't bothered. She wanted to stay as far from his as possible. A glance at the click made her groan. "Why can't I ever have dreams that wake me up at noon…not two in the morning?"


	2. Party

She pulled the blanket up over her head with an exasperated sigh. "Why can't I get him out of my system! Why is he even in my system!"

She felt like pounding the bed with her fists while kicking and screaming. The image made her laugh. Instead, she got out of bed and dressed. Her baggy black pants hung low on her hips and the red skin tight T-shirt stopped just above her navel. She ran her fingers through her hair, effectively making it spike into the usual appearance of a halo of flame around her head. Seconds later, her leather bracelets and two-inch thick leather choker, all covered in small circular silver studs, were in place.

Before she pulled on her boots she dumped out the white envelope. After puling on the boots she slipped the contents out of the envelope quickly counting the green bills.

_Damn piece of shit pawnshop owners that don't know the first thing about actually jewelry._ She hadn't even gotten a fourth of the price of the necklace. _Not that that really matters, seeing as I stole it, but still… at least half wholesale would have been nice._ She grabbed her keys off the dresser by the door as she left, locking the door behind her.

Now that she was up, Yalana knew there was no getting back to sleep, so she went for a walk. Even at two in the morning, New Orleans was full of life. Some people said that "once the sun goes down, the natives come out." It was a kind of running joke. She smiled slightly as she strolled down the road, returning the greetings of the people she knew, anyone from Homeless Dan on the corner to the stunning Jazel who sat on a swing in an upper floor window enticing customers to view the "shows" inside. Yalana smiled, despite the fact she lived on "Lewd Lane" every one that was there regularly had learned in the past several years that she wasn't for sale, and newcomers learned quickly. Sometimes Yalana thought about moving away from all the brothels and adult stores, but then she remembered that anywhere else questions would be asked about her and how she got her money and she laughed at her own foolishness.

She put her hands in her pickets as she watched a pair of jugglers and found a folded, forgotten piece of paper. A single sentence was written in an unfamiliar scrawl: Warehouse on the corner of Bourbon and Conti at 11 p.m. It took a minute for her to remember where the paper cam from. She smirked as she remembered the boy with short, spiked red hair that had flirted with her non-stop the other day and given her the address and time of the party. If she knew this city half as well as she though she did, then the party was still going strong. Yalana found the warehouse easily—the music was audible from three blocks away.

The slamming of the heavy metal door was drowned out by the pounding music and she laughed, loving the crowd of people she knew wouldn't try to get too close.

"Yo' a bi' la'e don' yo' t'ink?" She turned to see the boy who had given her the paper in the first place. His smile showed even white teeth and she saw a golden stud glinting from his earlobe. His black pants were loose and slightly baggy, with a muscle shirt to match. His blue eyes sparkled with mischief, and she was sure girls practically threw themselves at him. Well, she wouldn't be one of them.

She shrugged. "Figured I might as well check it out." Her voice was bland the picture of near boredom. It only made his smile broader.

"'ave fun, non?" he laughed as she rolled her eyes before he faded into the crowd.


	3. Fun's End

Fun's End

Yalana glanced around the warehouse; it was packed with bodies, all moving to the hard beat of the music. She put the boy, and how similar he was to Remy, the boy from two year earlier, out of her mind. It was eerie…he looked so much like Remy, but the "vibes" she got off him were somehow different. He was a flirt, he had the same looks…but he came off as more sincere…more serious in his flirting. Less like he just wanted to see how she reacted and more like he wanted to actually get to know her…less like he was just trying to get something from her.

She shook her head violently…determined to put the two away, in that place in her mind where she stored people and things she didn't want to look to closely at yet. She'd get there…in time. For now she melted into the crowd and danced, letting the meat take her where it would. She smiled, moving with the beat, and, sometimes, against it.

The music made her free, for a moment, from the terror she jokingly referred to as her life. It took her away from the pain of the lies she had grown up with, away from the life she now lived surrounded by the kind of people she had run away from. _Talk about going back to your roots,_ she thought bitterly, before she forcibly pushed it away, refusing to let anything ruin the fun that this night had started out as.

She danced harder, letting her the beat take her where it would, loving the carefree feeling it invoked in her. She danced with others, if they took the initiative to come to her. She didn't play favorites; she danced with anyone who offered. Boy, girl, hot, or ugly, it didn't matter. She danced and let herself go, hardly noticing when one partner left and another took their place. It went on, the music hardly paused between songs before a new one was on. In the morning she wouldn't be able to describe most of the people she had danced with, let alone remember any of their names. At least that was the plan.

She didn't know how long she had been there, how many different people she had danced with, before the boy who had invited her in the first place showed up to claim a dance. He wasn't like everyone else; he didn't let her get away with dancing without acknowledging his presence. He made her stop when he said hi, made her tell him her name and told her his in return. Lapin, what kind of name was that? She actually laughed when he gave it.

"Lapin," She said dryly, "as in Rabbit? Like the kind that have fluffy tails, hop around and eat carrots?"

He rolled his eyes, "Oui, li'e da' on'y 'm a lo' mo'e fun t' cuddle wid." His smile was flirty and she rolled her eyes in return, not sure rather he was joking or just full of himself. He was one of those rare people she seemed to have problems reading, just like Remy…she just couldn't read them, not in the least. It was the one thing that put her on edge around this boy, the fact that he was so far from readable, so unlike anyone else. Nine times out of ten she could trust her instincts on what a person was like, she'd learned to read people out of necessity, but she couldn't place Lapin. Just like she hadn't been able to place Remy two years ago. _Why does that little ingrate keep popping into my thoughts?_ she raged at herself. _He has no place in my thoughts…so why can't I keep him out?_ She slapped herself mentally, determined to have fun. Determined not to think of him again, determined to enjoy the party, even Lapin's company if it would just get that Cajun creep out of her thoughts and out of her dreams.

She started dancing, not really caring if Lapin chose to join her, but determined to dance herself into exhaustion before she went home and collapsed into bed to sleep until her alarm went off, calling her to another night of plunder just to stay in the "surviving" category of life. She'd just started to relax. Just started to get back into the flow of the music and started enjoying herself again. When she heard a voice straight from her dreams, straight from her nightmares.

"Lapin, mon ami, s' dere yo' are! An' who's dis yo' go' dancin' s' pr'voc'tively wid yo'?" Yalana stopped dancing and whirled to face him.

"Oh, no…Not you…anyone but you," she breathed not daring to raise her voice. She didn't want to believe it.


	4. Nightmare Lived

Nightmare Lived

She stared shocked, fighting the urge to blink repeatedly in an attempt to make him disappear. He looked the same, except he wore baggy blue jeans and a tight black tank top. _At least he's not wearing that damn cat suit that shoes off way too much._

His slow smile made it all too clear that this wasn't just another dream. She stepped back to put more space between them, in effect running into Lapin. Lapin clamped his hands on her upper arms to steady them both so they didn't fall.

"Bonjour chérie…'s been a lon' time." Remy's tone was full of humor and his eyes danced.

"Not nearly long enough!" she snapped irritably, trying to jerk away from Lapin's grip. He let her go.

"Yo' two know each ot'er?" Lapin asked, clearly amused.

"Unfortunately," Yalana said as Remy responded with a simple "Oui."

"I have t' hear dis story," Lapin laughed as Yalana glared at him.

"There's not much to tell. He stole my ring." She refused to look at Remy; instead she paid attention to Lapin.

"On'y after yo' stole i' from de store. B'sides…Remy tol' yo' yo' coul' have i' back. Yo' jus' nev'r came t' ge' i'."

She made a face. "Like I'd go looking for you," she said scornfully before rounding on Lapin. "And how do you know him?" she demanded.

He smiled sheepishly. "Sadly 'nough…he's sor' of my cousin, mais don' hold da' 'gains' me s'il vous plait."

"How can you be sort of cousins?" she asked still refusing to acknowledge Remy even as he moved closer to them.

"Easy." It was hard to ignore him when he stood so close. "Remy ain' related t' him by blood. Lapin's my cousin by 'doption."

"Great," was her only reply. "Right, guess it's time for me to get lost." Yalana turned to leave, bringing her right up against Remy. She stepped to the side to go around him and head for the door, but he caught her arm and spun her back around.

"Yo' can' leave s' soon," he told her smiling flirtatiously. "We still go' lo's of catchin' up t' do."

Yalana tried, uselessly, to jerk her arm out of his hand. "I have nothing to say to you," she ground out between her teeth, bringing heat to her skin, adding to it steadily determined to make him let her go even if she had to burn his arm off.

"Down femme." Remy's voice was still light, but his eyes were hard. "Da's no' goin' t' work."

Lapin, who had stood silently until now, finally spoke. "Remy, le' her go. Yo' can' jus' make her stay b'cause yo' wan' t'."

Remy didn't look away from Yalana. "Oui, Remy c'n. You don' know her Lapin. D' yo' wan' t' tell him or d' yo' wan' me t'?" The last comment was directed at Yalana.

She met his gaze steadily, refusing to look away but stubbornly keeping a stony silence. "Tell me wha'?" Lapin asked confused; still Yalana refused to rise to the bait.

"Tell him," Remy said, still ignoring the heat she was focusing under his hand even though she knew he would blister from it. "If yo' don' den Remy will." Still she was silent.

"Remy jus' tell me!" Lapin snapped, tired of the games and aggravated at the way his cousin was treating the girl he had been working for over a week at getting to open up even a little bit. And here Remy was making it sound like he knew her intimately and had for years.

"Yo' been readin' de papers," Remy said steadily, still looking at Yalana, "an' yo' hear' de way mon père goes off when he reads de articles bou' de t'ief."

Yalana's will was all that kept her from visibly paling; now she knew what he was talking about, what he had wanted her to tell Lapin. It was all she could do to keep the flames from bursting out of her to shut him up. He was going to tell, he was going to tell his cousin what she did for a living and he was gong to do it here at a party with hundreds of people around that could overhear.


End file.
